


Lost

by samcaarter



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode: s07e21-22 Lost City, F/M, Fix It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:48:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25264111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samcaarter/pseuds/samcaarter
Summary: In the original script they were supposed to kiss
Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Carter/Jack O'Neill
Comments: 26
Kudos: 106





	Lost

The only saving grace is that he knows exactly what's going on and how it's going to go down. He knows his chances of survival are slim at best but he won't fight it. He's slowly losing his mind and it's a good thing, because it'll save his planet and maybe even the entire galaxy. That has got to be worth it. And if a life is the cost, he'll gladly give his. 

In a strange way it's nice to give up control. He's acting not on impulse or autopilot, but maybe like he's a computer executing a program. It sure feels so because he has no idea what he's doing, and he only barely knows how to code.

It works nonetheless. 

When Carter appears at the back of the ship, he finishes making adjustments to the engines. There's just something else. "Give me your zat," he says before realizing he's spoken out loud. 

She immediately turns to get it, trusting him. Oh, if only. The second she hands it to him, he realizes where this is going. It's been happening like this, he knows what he's doing when he's doing it. But for the love of anything that is holy he can't put it into words. Not that there's any point, it's done and he needs to move on to the next thing. 

Carter hands him the zat and he discharges it. The engines hum and the pulsing lights add to the ever building headache between his eyes. 

“There you go.”

"Sir, I think you should know that General Hammond authorized me to take command of the team if I determined-" she says softly, unsure if she should even say it.

As if he wouldn't want that himself. Not that he's doing a great job _leading_ them. Though, he supposes, he is leading this on this wild quest for something he has no idea what yet. It's amazing that they still trust him.

"Do it now," he says, sensing that she needs it. 

She shakes her head. "Sir, I don't think that's necessary yet." 

Maybe not, but why wait? "I trust you.” After everything they’ve seen and been through, he doesn’t trust anyone else the way he trusts her. “I'll make it easy for you. I resign, you're in charge." And isn’t that just what he wants? The cruel reality slams into him. _I'll never have a future_. 

"Okay," she says and pauses, considering something. "Sir, at your house before Daniel and Teal'c showed up, what I was gonna say was..."

His first instinct is to interrupt her. She’s heading into the dangerous territory they always avoid. Not to mention that he's dying, he's as good as dead, there's no need to burden her with maybes and what ifs and unrealized hopes and expectations. She deserves to be free. 

He says nothing.

She doesn't either. Maybe she wanted him to interrupt her. This dance they dance so effortlessly after years of practicing. But he's so tired. And he's dying. And he loves her. 

It's selfish, he knows. 

Rounding the console he stops in front of her, lit up by the pulsing lights of the engines. In the otherwise dark space, her eyes are dark as well instead of their usual bright blue, and maybe that's what does it. 

Cupping her face in his hands, he leans down until his lips firmly press to hers, not the kiss he wants to give her, only what he feels he can get away with. A simple touch, a goodbye. An apology.

He stills, committing the feeling of her soft lips to memory. The skin underneath his palms. The hair he feels with his fingertips. Grateful that she's giving him this one moment of peace. 

The zat falls to the floor.

Her tongue tentatively touches his lips as her arms snake up, until her palm cups the back of his neck, pulling him down to meet her halfway. Her other hand grips his hair, keeping him in place, as if she's afraid he's going to come to his senses and pull back. 

His will is melting away like ice cream, and instead of doing the right thing, he opens his mouth and kisses her like he wants to. Pulling her closer until there's not an inch of space between their bodies. Until he forgets about his headache, and all he feels and breathes is Carter.

That’s the second time he kisses her because he’s selfish enough to want to.

When they break apart he doesn’t let her go, pressing his forehead to hers, breathing her in. Relishing the feeling of her hands gently running through his hair, caressing his cheek. He tightens his around her in response. “I know.”

“What?” It’s nothing more than a puff of air across his lips.

“What you were going to say. I know,” he says, wishing he could hear her say it. Wishing he could say it, but he’s a dying man, these are his last days, and he’s already taken more than he deserves. Been more selfish than she deserves.

“Yeah,” she says, keeping her eyes closed.

He presses one final kiss to her forehead. “Have a good life, Carter.” Turning away from her, he double checks the crystals and closes the panel. Her exhale is loud enough that he feels it weighing down on him.

He doesn’t move. They should get to their destination soon.


End file.
